What is it with baby teeth that makes me nostalgic? When you think about the biology behind losing teeth, it's frankly a little bit gross. Small piece of calcium, dentrite material, nerve and blood exceeds its "good 'til" date. Rather than making a graceful and painless exit, it hangs on while the small owner sticks (usually) filthy, germy hands into his mouth to wiggle wiggle, tug tug. Eventually, sufficient germ infested manipulation has occurred, and the tooth comes out.
Enter misty eyed nostalgia. Especially for the first lost tooth, I exclaim how big the small person is getting, and talk of the tooth fairy becomes topic #1 at the dinner table. Suddenly it's not about the body expelling a now-useless part, it's about getting paid. Cash money, please.
In this case, my little man is stuck using the pink tooth pillow I made for Caroline because 1) he's kid #2 and kid #2 always gets the short end of the stick, and 2) he was in possession of extra teeth for so long I kept figuring I had one more weekend to get a tooth pillow made. Oops.
I have it on good authority that the pink tooth pillow will still result in cash money.